


You Hold The Key

by genee



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-20
Updated: 2009-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-19 23:30:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/206395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genee/pseuds/genee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Nate has a cock cage at home</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	You Hold The Key

**Author's Note:**

> Written in the "good cookies" thread, and inspired by the prompt: _Chastity - the most unnatural of all the sexual perversions_.

Nate has a cock cage at home. It's not something he's been able to use with any regularity since he joined the Corps, but that's okay. It's fine. His last year at Dartmouth he kept himself in it for five months once, 24/7. He just needed to do it then, to know he could. He needed the discipline. He wasn't expecting the relief of it, but he got that, too. There've been times since when it was hot as hell, when he'd get hard just thinking about it, the feel of the restraint, the mind fuck of it, but lately it's been more of a comfort than anything else.

He likes knowing it's there. Likes knowing when he gets home he can fit his dick into it again, tighten the ring around his balls, turn the key in the lock and finally, finally, just let the fuck go. He knows wherever he is in the world, if he survives the clusterfuck of Command and gets himself and his men home safely, it will still be there, waiting.

He knows he'll take a long, hot shower when he gets home - first to get clean and then to get off, his fingers sliding in and out of his ass, his other hand wrapped around his dick, slick and soapy. He knows that first orgasm will barely take the edge off but will feel so fucking good all he'll want is more. He knows he'll trim his pubes down to almost nothing, jerk off until he can get himself into the cage without getting hard, shower again, this time to cool down, and when he's clean and dry and properly caged, when he's put the key in the safe behind his desk, then, and only then, will he really be able to sleep.

Now, though? Nate doesn't have that luxury. Combat jacks, on the other hand, are goddamn essential. He can't do his job effectively with a hard on. He's thoroughly disciplined about it, though. He is efficient. The lives of his men are on the line and Nate won't let anything, least of all his dick, cloud his judgment.

Brad, of course, is a constant fucking challenge. He stands too close. He licks his lips and watches Nate do the same in response, and Nate does it every time, he can't even help it. He's making Nate crazy, his control slipping away, little signs of it here and there.

Nate's never turned his key over to someone else before, never met anyone he'd even considered giving that part of himself to, but Brad, fuck. Brad makes him _want_. He dreams they're home already, Nate's key on the chain around Brad's neck, clinking softly against his tags, the sound of it making Nate moan in his sleep, waking him up in his dusty grave, hard and leaking.

The sun beats down on the map spread out before them, and Brad rests his hand on Nate's forearm, on the small of his back, on his shoulder. He smiles, and Nate smiles, too. Brad backs off and comes closer. He watches Nate unabashedly. He _stares_.

Nate swears Brad knelt beside his grave one night, stars above him like so many blinking lights. Nate swears Brad leaned in close then and covered Nate's mouth with one dirty hand, Nate's crotch with the other, and whispered, "When we get home I'm gonna make you lose control, Sir. Make you let go, put you back together again. Would you let me? I'd keep you safe, Sir. You can be fucking assured of that."

It may have been a dream. Nate hopes like fuck it wasn't.

 

\--End--


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